She Chose Paris
by ADustlandFairytale
Summary: But what if Juliet had listened to her head rather than her heart? What if Juliet had made the safe decision? What if Juliet had chosen Paris? one-shot, A/N- I know I say hermione has red hair at one point, just a mistake...sorry


**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Nor Hermione, nor (unfortunately) Draco. **

_Oh how she loved her Romeo. But what if Juliet had listened to her head rather than her heart? What if Juliet had made the safe decision? What if Juliet had chosen Paris?_

They could not be; she had always known that. He whispered beautiful promises of their love, of running away and whisking her into a world where only they would walk, but she knew it would not be. Hermione had always been the sensible one in their relationship (secret as it was) whilst Draco had been more the darer, the dreamer.

It had started out as simply a game for them, a way to let off steam and frustration against their families and friends and workloads and responsibilities. They would find each other, give a look and both would know what the other needed. Bodies entwined in a passionate embrace, lips locked, tongues battling until they would wake in his bed the next morning. He would smile softly and stroke her red hair; she would kiss his forehead and then leave. It was not love, nor friendship, but they _needed _each other.

And then he started to seek her out more often, simply to spend time in her company, and he was too beautiful to deny. She knew what was happening to him before he did, she knew they were entering dangerous territory but she wasn't ready for it to end, not yet. Angry, bruising kisses became sweeter and more intoxicating, shagging became sex; slow and sensual and full of love. The lust in his eyes became something more, something deeper and she knew if she didn't stop what they were doing, they would both stand to get hurt.

But Hermione was, unknown to most people, selfish, almost as much as Draco was. She didn't want to let him go. 'Hermione' he whispered, and the adoration he breathed whilst saying her name broke her heart because they could never be more than what they were now: a forbidden passion with no hope to grow because she was Hermione Granger and he was Draco Malfoy. Granger. Malfoy. Granger. Malfoy.

It was five months into their 'relationship' that she decided it had to stop, before everything would end in flames as it only would if they kept going. They both had their respected admirers, potential lovers, but neither Weasley nor Parkinson could compare. He smiled at her as she quietly walked towards him, a smile only reserved for his beautiful Hermione. Silently he led her into the room of requirement (a place of refuge they'd been using since the beginning of 'them') and walked her to the bed.

She decided not to tell him until afterwards, that this would be the last time. The last time they would look in each other's eyes with true emotions, the last time they would hold each other so close, the last time he would be inside her, the l-last time she would hear him utter those three words that sent her heart melting. What hurt the most was that whilst he made love to her, he had no idea it would be the end, believing it to be just like any other night.

Clothes fell to the floor and she held him tight, savouring his smell and the feel of his body.

'I want to go slow tonight' she whispered, the reason as to why hidden in her mind.

He simply smiled at her, still not believing that he had once hated this woman due to something as stupid as blood. He had plans you see, plans that would take them away and start a new life, just the two of them. No Purebloods, no Mudbloods, no Dark Lord, no Chosen one, no restrictions, only him and Hermione.

Panting, moaning, breathing heavily, she looked into his eyes as he moved in her, setting her very body alight with passion and need. She knew he loved her, and unfortunately she loved him too, which would only make leaving him harder.

_It's for the best..._she reminded herself. _It's for our own safety..._she reminded herself

She whimpered as he hit a particularly delicious spot and he moaned louder at the cry of his name. He was so close, she could feel it, but she wasn't ready for it to end, for them to end. So she flipped them over and impaled herself on him whilst his eyes went wide, seeing nothing but Hermione. The dim light on the ceiling shone behind her, giving a reddish glow to her hair and body. She looked like an angel and all Draco could think of was that she was his. His. His to love and love him in return. The pleasure was like nothing he could name, his heart fluttering as she looked down at him, eyes half closed, bottom lip trapped beneath her teeth.

It was too much, she was so close and she needed relief, she craved it like no other, and no other could relieve her like Draco Malfoy did. She found herself being flipped on her back again, Draco pounding into her mercilessly as she screamed for him to make her come.

Her begging was driving him insane, his need for her intensified _even _more and he felt so much pleasure it was almost pain. Almost. She wailed his name loudly one last time, before biting into his shoulder as she came. The jerking of her muscles set him off and he moaned his love for her as he let the wonderful feeling of satisfaction take over him. There was absolutely nothing, like making love to Hermione Granger.

She looked into his eyes, saw the happiness and love, and let the tears she'd been holding in earlier out. Holding him closer she cried into his shoulder, and he knew what was about to come, so he held her closer, as if wanting to imprint her into his own body.

'Please don't Hermione'...the words only made her cry harder.

She had to, for him, for her, for there was no way they could be happy together. She would not run away from this war, no matter how strong her love for him. And he could not fight for the light side; it would get him killed sooner or later, regardless of how much protection they would offer him.

'I'm sorry, we knew it would have to end sometime' she whispered.

He kissed her forehead and rocked her. Slowly she fell asleep in his arms, and only then did he let his own tears fall. All his plans died to nothing, she would not come with him. And deep down, hadn't he always known she was too brave, too good to leave her friends in the middle of a war? To put her own happiness before others was something Hermione Granger would never do, and that only made him love her more. Too good she was, too good for him. He stared at her beautiful face, willing his eyes to stay open as he tried to memorise her every feature...but sleep took hold of him.

She woke first. She traced his lips softly as to not wake him, before scribbling down a note and setting it on her pillow. It was over. She spared one last glance at the beautiful boy safe in his dreams (didn't she know they were of her?) and walked out, head held high. Over.

It was seven when Draco Malfoy awoke alone in a large bed. He looked over to find a note, and prayed that it wasn't really over, that she hadn't meant what she said last night.

_Draco,_

_Starting this note is hard. In fact writing any of it is. I love you. Please understand at the very least, that I love you. But it has to end. Forbidden love stories, though the most beautiful ones, are never the ones to work out. I will go on to fight in this war because I know I am supposed to, and you can go on to survive as you were before I came along and messed up our...destiny? Fate? I don't know, I'm not much one to believe in such things, but the point is, the point to this note is, that we can't be together anymore. You will survive through this war, and marry a respectable pureblood witch and live a good life. If I am to survive I will marry Ronald, who loves me and though I don't love him like I love you, I care for him enough. It's the way it has to be. _

_Thank you for loving me, thank you for changing me and being there when I needed you. In a way I guess I shall always be yours_

_Love, Hermione_

He stared at the note for a good three minutes before letting out a cry of anguish, letting the pain rip and shred at him. He took her pillow and held it to his nose, smelling her intoxicating scent until he was satiated in it. It was over. Hermione Granger had left him to do the right thing. The brave, courageous, correct thing. He hated that she was so good, but he knew that if she hadn't been, then she wouldn't be the Hermione he loved. He got up, got changed, and with one last glance at the bed and the memories it had held for five months (the best five months of both of their lives) Draco left the room, head held high.

And that was that. She would go on her way and he would go on his way. They both survived the war. He married Greengrass and she married Weasley and he had a Scorpius and she had a Rose and a Hugo. He lived a good, fulfilling life. She lived in content and surrounded by others who loved her. But each night, after making love to her Ron, she dreamt haunting, beautiful dreams of stolen kisses and forbidden loves of a boy with silver blonde hair and a heart melting smile. And each night after shagging Astoria he dreamt of laughter, of small, soft hands and chocolate, love filled eyes that belonged to only Hermione.

Yes they'd both moved on to do the right thing. To do what had been expected of them. Did she regret her decision? Did he regret not fighting for her? Did it matter? No, because it was too late. Juliet had left Romeo and chosen Paris just as had been intended for her. Romeo had let it go, let her go. And now there was nothing either could do about it.


End file.
